Silver Secrets of Jordan
by DoctorKeyboy
Summary: When Nicholas and his dæmon, Aika, meet the mysterious girl, Lyra, and her dæmon, Pan, the two are whisked off into an adventure of parallel worlds, unfulfilled destinies, untold secrets, and a curse that may hold the answer to the question Nicholas has been asking himself his entire life.
1. Chapter 1: The Pull

**Welcome readers, to my very first chapter of **_**Silver Secrets of Jordan**_**! This is my first story, so reviews would be great! Oh, and obviously this is **_**His Dark Materials**_** related, and it takes place 1 year after the events of **_**The Amber Spyglass**_**. Enjoy! REVIEW PLEASE!**

Nicholas stood precariously on one of the window sills of the third story of St. Sophia's. He was peeking through the window of a girl he had followed from the Botanical Garden in Oxford earlier that day. His dæmon, Aika-Tulppa, a hummingbird, swiftly whisked over to his side and landed on his shoulder. Her metallic blue and green feathers radiated from the twilight sunset ending behind the two of them.

"Aika, do you see her?"

"Are you sure this is her room?"

"Of course it is! I checked."

"And by 'checked' you mean you climbed up here and looked into every girl's window until you found her?"

Nicholas scowled, and refused to reply. He knew how odd it was for him to be twenty feet in the air waiting to spy on a girl he did not know. He had just had this bizarre "pull" toward this girl. Or was it "attraction" like Aika-Tulppa suggested? Either way, he found it irritatingly difficult to not look at the dirty-blonde cascades of hair and the exquisite blue eyes that she possessed. Aika eventually admitted that it was hard to ignore the girl's dæmon; a red, golden furred pine-marten.

But one thing that caught Nicholas's attention was the fact that she had been crying. It had been the most spectacular Midsummer Day. The bells throughout Oxford had been ringing and a parade of children and adults had proceeded down the streets in honor of the fall of the Magisterium (which had, until about two years ago, been in complete control of a majority of everyone's' lives). Laughter and clapping, singing and shouting echoed all throughout the town. Nevertheless, this one teenage girl had been all alone, silently in tears as she sat on a solitary bench with her marten dæmon surrounded by flowers and overgrown plants.

Aika-Tulppa whispered excitedly in Nicholas's ear, "Here she is! Look!"

Nicholas slyly watched as the girl opened and closed her dormitory door, slung a leather bag full of over sized books beside her bed, and finally collapsed onto her bed with her chest slowly heaving up and down in a steady rhythm. Nicholas could barely hear her speak with her dæmon, but could make out most of their discussion.

"Books, books, more and more books!" said the marten, shaking his head at the leather bag.

"Pan, just lay off the subject for a bit, will you? I have more work than a king of Svalbard would ever have."

"Are you sure they even have that much work in the first place up in the North?"

"What a silly thing to ask! Of course they do, with the sky iron to mine, and the diplomacy with the Tartars and witches, and-"

"Okay, all right! But the point is we're so close to learning at least three meanings for each symbol of the Alethiometer."

"I'm excited too, Pan. Really, I am. Just… not today? Too painful. Too many…" she trailed off.

"Memories?"

She sighed and leaned over to pick up her dæmon, apparently named Pan. She stroked his luxuriant fur for a minute. Suddenly, she seemed to come to some sort of resolution. She got up from her bed, and the girl started to rummage through her leather bag. Nicholas wished her name would be mentioned during this cryptic conversation at least once. He wanted to know her name so he could learn a thing or two about her from a classmate or two down on High Street tomorrow.

Suddenly, Nicholas gasped. He almost lost his grip on the window sill from the surprise of what he saw. Even Aika fluttered a bit from his shoulder. The girl had produced a small, glittering golden compass from her bag and was staring at it in her lap back on her bed. Now how would someone come across something like that?

"Pan?"

"Lyra?"

So that was her name.

"Should I ask it, Pan?"

"About… _him_?"

Lyra's face was frowning in concentration. Nicholas could almost imagine the gears whirring and turning in her head, thinking, wondering. Then finally, she opened the compass. Nicholas craned his neck to see the inside of the beautiful object, and Aika-Tulppa flew off his shoulder and up a few inches to see. But, as he lifted himself up, his foot slipped on the window sill and he lost his grip. Aika-Tulppa wailed as Nicholas fell from his spot. Wind whistled through his ears, and a stabbing pain of hopelessness stung his heart as he saw his dæmon shrink away as he fell farther and farther from her. Ten feet. Five feet. Two feet. Two inches.

Then pain flooded his entire body, his vision grew blurry, the sound of a shout sounded across the street, and all went black.

**OUCH! That's gotta hurt. Well stay tuned for the next installment of Silver Secrets of Jordan! PLEASE REVIEW! Advice would rule. Also, suggestions plot wise would be cool. I know this is only the very beginning, but I'm really just making some of this up as I go. So suggestions would be awesome. THANK YOUUUU! :D**


	2. Chapter 2: Mother's Wishes

**Hello readers! Tis me again. Since I'm enjoying the process of writing this fanfiction, I'd like to continue its spawesomeness (spiffing + awesome). Please REVIEW and CRITIQUE and make SUGGESTIONS for the plot!**

_Nick… Nicholas… Nicholas West… _

A voice was ringing in his head. So Nicholas replied with the first question anyone would ask.

_"Who are you?"_

_ What a silly thing to ask, child. You know exactly who I am._

The voice was smooth and crisp with every consonant clearly rolling off the tongue of the speaker (despite the fact that the voice had no tongue or body, for that matter). It was the voice of a middle-aged woman, who must have been raised by royalty or at least by some noble family. Nicholas had a disturbing revelation at who this voice might be coming from.

_"Leave. Now. Get out of my head! GET OUT!"_

_ Oh no, dear. Now why would I ever do a thing like that?_

_ "I don't want you, of all people, to be stuck in here!"_

_ What would make you say such a cruel thing as that?_

_ "You're twisted."_

_ So kind of you. Now will you listen for just-_

Nicholas willed his mind to bend away from the voice, lashing away from the calm, cool caress of its words. He knew what it would ask, and dread filled him as he felt the voice begin to ring in head.

_I AM YOUR MOTHER, AND YOU WILL LISTEN AND DO WHAT YOU ARE TOLD! DO NOT TRY TO EVADE ME, BOY, FOR I WILL THEN FIND YOU AND NEVER LET GO._

_ "Fine! Say it."_

_ Now… _began the voice, _I need your help._

This came as a surprise to Nicholas. The voice, or his mother, seemed to notice.

_Never expected me to be in need of someone like you? Well, times have changed. With the Magisterium gone, my clan of witches has been… vulnerable to the panserbjørner._

_ "Aren't those… armored bears? In the North?"_

_ Svalbard, child. The farthest reaches of the North. Despite the fact that is the land of the panserbjørner, my clan has established itself in secret there for centuries. Now, I cannot grant you the privilege of knowing the exact location of the clan, but we need an artifact to keep the bears at bay._

_ "Why do they even want to bother… _you_?" _added Nicholas, shooting as much venom out on his last word.

_They are ignorant of our traditional practices as witches. They fear us. But no matter! Find the girl with the symbol-reader, and make her ask it to find the artifact. After you have done this, we shall speak again._

_ "What if I can't find her? What if I refuse to do this?"_

_ Then you will be the worst son this world has ever witnessed. A male child of a witch. A runaway. A convict. A thief. Must I go on?_

_ "Not bothered by your incessant insults, mother."_

_ And then there's the curse…_

Nicholas felt his mind cringe.

_"All right. As you wish, your queens-ship."_

_ Such a pleasure to speak to you, street-rat of a son._

And at that moment, the sickening voice within Nicholas's head began to finally fade. His mind relaxed, as he knew she could not read his thoughts anymore. How could someone so cruel, selfish, and arrogant be the queen of probably the most powerful witch clan in the North? He could not wrap his mind around such an incredible idea. But then, just as quickly as the voice had left, another voice started to slowly crescendo in the darkness.

_Boy! Child! Is he alive? I saw him fall… almost lost his dæmon!_

The voice was not only one. A multitude of voices started to ring from all ends of his mind, breaking into his concentration. He could not think. He could only hear the boisterous shouting all around him! It was going to drive him mad!

"Shut up! Will all of you just shut the hell up?!"

The darkness was gone. Nicholas realized there was moonlight streaming through a window behind him. The window had pale, white silk curtains, and a blanket of the same color was draped over his body. His surroundings slowly came into focus. He saw an end table appear beside his bed, and suddenly when he looked forward closely enough he began to see various faces. A pair of bearded glasses peered down at him, a scrunched up, stern brunette with a crooked nose looked at him disapprovingly, and a pair of blue eyes with dirty blonde cascades of hair…

"I saw him right before he fell," Lyra whispered to the two adults.

"Well, he's obviously recovering from his fall," spoke the old man. He wore a white coat and held a stethoscope in his hands, and his thick glasses made his eyes magnified to resemble those of an oversized insect.

"He fell quite far from his dæmon. You're sure he's not severed," the three of them shivered at the thought, "from his fall, do you, Dr. Hect?"

"He seems fine enough. And besides, if you haven't realized it yet Miss Yule, his dæmon is currently resting on his chest. Quite a beautiful thing she is, too…"

"Yeah, she would have vanished into thin air if he fell too far away from her, Miss Yule," added Lyra.

Nicholas stared up at the three people in puzzlement. He blinked a few times and pinched his arm tightly to make sure he was not dreaming. He had the most bitter-sweet luck anyone could ever receive. He had been forced by his mother to begin some awful plan, but he had landed right in the lap of the girl he was so intrigued by. Lyra… quite a unique name.

"Lyra, dear, please report back to your dormitory. It is quite kind of you to care about this boy's well-being, but this is of no importance for you any longer. Run along."

Lyra eyed Nicholas for a split second. Her eyes narrowed, and her dæmon flicked up his tail. Suspicion was written all across her face, but then she did something unexpected to Nicholas. He could swear he saw her suddenly wink at him. Then without a word at all, she walked to the mahogany doors at the other end of the long rectangular room full of windows, opened the doors, and let them shut behind her as she began her way down a long carpeted hallway on the other end of the doors.

"Such a pleasant child," said Dr. Hect after Lyra had gone.

"Quite vain, in my opinion," spoke Miss Yule.

The unyielding woman swiftly spun on her heel and also filed out of the infirmary (Nicholas had decided that this room had to be such a place since other beds identical to his lined the walls between each of the windows). Dr. Hect watched her go, and then he turned to Nicholas.

"You, boy, are lucky you didn't die today. St. Sophia's is thankful you didn't, but we'd appreciate it if you didn't climb our school walls from now on. If you're seen by this school again for any reason, you will be escorted to the jail built for housing street-urchins that misbehave in this town like you, understand?"

Nicholas blinked in response.

"Now you'll remain here for the night, then you'll be on your way. I will give you a sleeping draught to help you relax from the injuries you've sustained."

The doctor handed Nicholas a glass of thick green liquid that smelled of burnt potatoes and administered the horrendous the medicine. After that, with a curt nod and, "'Night," the doctor left the infirmary, shutting off the anbaric lights as he left. In the darkness, Nicholas stared at the blank ceiling thinking.

What on Earth had he gotten himself into? Maybe his mother would not have contacted him if he had not decided to climb to Lyra's window sill earlier that same day. It had only been hours ago that he fell, but it seemed as if that had all happened weeks ago. His head was swimming, and he could feel his eyelids growing heavy once again…

"Hey, you! YOU! Maggot! Get up, you rat! HEY! I SAID GET UP!"

Nicholas felt hands shaking him from his shoulders and the voice of an agitated girl yelling at him. His eyes flashed open to see Lyra standing beside him, clutching him by his shoulders. She released him once she saw his eyes were open wide, and she sat back in a chair she must have pulled up to his bedside.

"Wait, why… What the… Why on Earth are _you_ here?"

"Because I need to talk to you," replied Lyra simply, her dæmon, Pan, jumping up from next to her leather bag on the floor and onto her lap. He stared at Nicholas with a sly expression on his pine-marten face making his whiskers twitch.

"Talk about what?" questioned Nicholas, looking back at Lyra with his eyebrows furrowed.

"We need to talk about your little conversation with a witch."

Nicholas was stunned. He gaped at Lyra, who continued to look at him with her chin held high and her shoulders pulled back. She was proud, and Lyra seemed to be a force that he should not reckon with.

"H-h-how do you know about that?" asked Nicholas timidly.

"I asked this, and it told me."

She reached into her leather bag from earlier, and produced the golden compass.


	3. Chapter 3: Over Rooftops and Onto Curses

**I'm actually rather enjoying this readers. I know not many of you are reading this yet, but I really don't care! This is so much fun! Now, time to talk about curses… :)**

She held it calmly in her hands as if the instrument fit into them like the two were made for one another. The gold sparkled in the moonlight, and the glint of the metal flashed onto the walls of the infirmary. It even seemed like the light that was present from a wax candle on the bedside table was sucked away into the light of the exquisite item.

"That's what you were looking at when… Well, when I-"

"Was spying on me and hanging onto my window sill three stories high?" finished Lyra.

"Well…"

"_Well_ this, and _well_ that! Now, all I know is that you had been talking with a witch while you were out. I didn't know witches could read minds or talk to people like that, so I thought I'd take a look into the matter. By the way, your name?"

"Nick. Short for Nicholas."

"Lyra."

"I know."

She looked taken aback at his rash comment. Nicholas immediately attempted to correct his gaffe.

"Oh, no, I only heard your dæmon say your name, and the teacher too!"

Lyra sighed in relief. Apparently, to Nicholas, she must have run into similar situations like this in the past. He did not know why he understood her behavior as this, but it seemed to fit that way in his mind. Nicholas could piece this girl together easily. It unnerved him.

"Well, back to the point. Who were you talking to, then? Was it a witched named Serafina Pekkala?"

"No," said Nicholas, shaking his head, "her name is Sydän Jäätä."

"Never heard of her," spoke Lyra in a disappointed tone.

"Lucky thing you never have…"

Lyra cocked her head on end in puzzlement.

"Now what would make you say that?" suddenly asked Pan, Lyra's dæmon.

"She's a horror I'm forced to deal with. So how did that thing… Is it a compass? Nevermind, how did you figure out I talked to a witch from that thing in your lap?"

Lyra smiled slyly like Pan had a minute ago, and she picked up the golden object and held it in the palm of her hand. She gestured toward the object with her other hand for Nicholas to open it. He looked at Lyra uncertainly, but eventually he inched his fingers slowly to the golden lid, felt for the underside lip where the lid would hinge up, and pulled.

Nicholas's eyes grew larger than a full moon. Within the circular, gold "compass," a ring of symbols ranging from a baby and a knife, to a garden and a lightning bolt were painted along the edges of the instrument. Closer to the center of the object, a collection of gears and springs were spinning and clicking. Finally, protruding from the center were four needles. The three red needles were each pointing to one of the symbols in the object, but the fourth black needle was swinging around to other symbols following and repeating a pattern with the symbols. The detail of each of the pictures and the exquisite designs carved into the polished gold were awing to Nicholas.

"It's called an alethiometer."

"Oh? What's that mean, then? The name, I mean," spoke Nicholas hurriedly.

Lyra shut the lid and started to slide the alethiometer back into her bag.

"It's a truth-measurer. A symbol-reader, if you will."

Nicholas's smile vanished at her words. He recalled what his mother had demanded of him. _Find the girl with the symbol-reader. _How on earth had she known that Lyra was that girl? She could not have! She could not be watching him. She would never use spies. Or would she? His mother was ruthless, but she did not go for a clever and witty image. Her reputation seemed stuck on power and unyielding arrogance. Apparently fate was playing a role in all this.

"I find it to be quite beautiful," said Nicholas, trying to cover up his moment of fear.

Lyra smiled with pride, and slung her leather bag over her shoulder. She remained seated and gave Nicholas another look. She scanned him from head to toe.

"So, who is this Sydney Yahta witch again?"

"Sydän Jäätä. And she's pretty much the most powerful and vicious witch that can exist."

"Why was she talking to you?"

"Dunno," lied Nicholas, "maybe I have something she needs?"

"Maybe… What did you talk about?"

Aika-Tulppa slowly crawled out from under the sheets covering Nicholas. She yawned from her small beak, and slowly buzzed into the air and hovered sleepily over Nicholas's head. With her eyes trained on Lyra, she began, "Oh, found the girl now, did we? Well then, better get her to ask the question to her whatever-she-called-it…"

Lyra looked at Nicholas's dæmon in confusion. She raised her eyebrows at Nicholas suspiciously, and he felt his ears go red. Aika-Tulppa had heard the whole conversation with Nicholas and his mother, Sydän, but she did not know that he was still trying to sort out what he should do instead of telling Lyra everything he had heard. He knew she obviously played a key role in whatever his mother had whipped up for him this time.

Before Lyra could callout Nicholas on his evasiveness, the sound of footsteps echoed from the hallway outside. The two looked over to the doors in alarm. Both dæmons drew close to their humans. Lyra snapped back to reality before Nicholas did.

"Now listen here. You're definitely not being straight to the point with me. So I'm gonna make you if you don't tell me what I want to know in such a manner. Get it?"

"Got it."

"Good. Now, what did you talk about with the witch?"

"She said I needed to find the girl with the symbol-reader so she'd ask it a question."

Lyra bit her lip at this news.

"And?"

"I need to know where an artifact is located."

The footsteps were growing louder every second.

"Yeah, and!?"

"An artifact that can protect the witches from the panserbjørner."

"Armored bears!?" exclaimed Lyra in sudden enthusiasm.

She instantly removed her leather bag from her shoulder and extracted her alethiometer from the bag. She looked back at the door with anxiety written all over her face. Lyra then grabbed Nicholas by his arms and pulled him up suddenly so he was sitting. Nicholas, surprised by her sudden behavior, had no time to react at all. He merely, and bluntly, followed. With that, she grabbed him by his hand and whisked him out of his bed. After stumbling about and almost tripped over his own feet twice, Nicholas was pulled over to one of the nearby windows. Lyra began to unlock it.

"You're not the only one who knows how to climb," she explained as she slid the window up.

The next thing Nicholas knew, he was climbing up the façade of St. Sophia's once more but now accompanied by not only Aika, but Lyra and Pan. The pine-marten swiftly jumped up the stone slabs and wooden support beams, and Lyra dragged Nicholas up the side of the school with Aika fluttering up sleepily next to him. Once they reached the top, she sat on the roof and looked down at the alethiometer. Nicholas had to close his eyes and catch his breath. He could feel his heart pounding so fast in his chest, and his head was pounding.

"So, what did you want me to ask it?" started Lyra.

"Gimme a sec, will you?" gasped Nicholas from the little breath he had.

"Oh, suck it up. We only climbed a story or two."

"Up the side of a building, and it's not like you had fallen off the side of building earlier in the day!" retorted Nicholas, but he gave her a different reply when he saw her cold glare of annoyance, "Sorry… Ask it for an artifact that'll protect witches from armored bears."

Lyra opened the alethiometer and shut her eyes. Once Nicholas had caught his breath he finally gave Lyra a closer look. Lyra had suddenly entered a state of concentration. She was relaxed and ready. Finally, the girl opened her eyes and looked down at her instrument. She slowly slid the three red needles to the symbols she thought were necessary for her question. Nicholas watched in interest.

Suddenly, Lyra was engrossed by the alethiometer. She drew her face closer to the golden object and her eyes grew wide. She shut the lid quickly. She seemed quite disturbed.

"What is it? What did it tell you?"

"You… You are…"

"Spit it out!"

Lyra breathed for a minute to compose herself.

"There's something in my home that will give you what you need."

"What?"

"That's… well, sort of what it said."

Nicholas looked at Lyra with his eyes narrowed.

"What did it say about me?"

Lyra stood up quickly. And with that, she started walking back to the edge of the school. She stood there with her hair blowing as the evening air rushed over the rooftop of the school. The stars gleamed overhead, and a crescent moon shot moonlight down across the city, illuminating the streets and buildings with a silver-blue glow. The sight of Lyra with such a background swept Nicholas away.

Sliding her legs over the side of the school, Lyra sat on the roof with a forlorn look slipping onto her once excitable face. She opened her mouth as if to speak, but closed it like she needed to reword what she almost spoke. Then she did speak.

"Nick… It only said she was your mum. The witch. I was merely surprised by that."

"Oh…" said Nicholas, relieved as he approached Lyra, "Yeah, that witch is my mum. I didn't want to tell you until later, but I guess Aika threw that out the window when she woke up and practically gave that away."

"Sorry, I was a bit groggy!" claimed Aika-Tulppa.

Lyra pointed at the largest college in the distance.

"That's my home."

"Huh?"

"Jordan College? Ever been there?"

"Once or twice," answered Nicholas, "Why?"

"It's my home. You'll find your artifact there."

Nicholas sighed. He approached Lyra and sat next to her. Aika perched on his shoulder. Nicholas looked over at Lyra as she stared out into space vaguely.

"You'll come with, right?"

"What?" spoke Lyra, obviously not paying much attention.

"To find the artifact!"

"Oh… Well… Lemme think for a bit first. I have a lot on my mind… Especially today. Let this day finish up first, understand?"

And with that, Lyra slid down the side of the building and out of sight. Nicholas closed his eyes and shook his head with a smile. She was something. He did not care that she knew about his mother or the artifact. He thought he was naïve to think that she was a part of fate like he had assumed everything else had been so far.

However, he was wrong to think this. Fate had brought her to him. Fate… or Dust.

Lyra knew who Nicholas was, and who he was going to become. She knew he was cursed.

Lyra slid back through her dormitory window and sat on her bed. Her face was pale like she was going to be sick. Pantalaimon curled himself next to her.

"C'mon then. What is it?"

"The curse. His curse, Pan."

"Exactly! Tell me what it is!" demanded Pan.

She shakily inhaled, then began,

"Whoever he loves will die by his hand, or whoever loves him will be his death."

** SUCKS FOR HIM! I know where I'm going in the short-run from here, but I'd still like plot ideas people. This is like a 20 chapter kind of thing, and I'd LOVE your ideas. REVIEW please and CRITIQUE if you can! XD**


	4. Chapter 4: Jordan College

**Sorry for the long gap! School school school, work work work, you know how it is. So, I reread what I had and I know what I'm doing! Here I go: To Jordan College!**

Nicholas waited at the Clay beds; his arms crossed and sweat beading down his face from the rising heat of the summer day. Kids and pedestrians ran about and shouted as they conducted their daily business. He despised this part of town. It truly made Nicholas feel lowly and like the "thief" his mother always painted him to be despite the fact he really did live like one. He hated admitting it to himself, but he was a thief, and he was a street-boy. Nicholas and Aika had inhabited an abandoned cellar on a street farther from the colleges. Every day of his current life, Nicholas would walk two miles to reach the colleges, and usually took an hour long detour walking along the river banks, nicking a fish or two from a Gyptian child or a sandwich from a passing vendor on the road.

His life was sullen, base, yet uneventful and calm. Nicholas could not appreciate this inaction however. He found his stagnant life to be an unproductive one, but he always told himself he could not do anything about it. If he were to join society, then Nicholas's secrets would be subject to the minds of all. Censuses, reports, payments, and all the everyday life processes that people who are normal go through would reveal Nicholas to be homeless and dangerous. He was an outcast, even if the world did not know. Yet.

Lyra and her dæmon rounded the corner behind Nicholas. She carried her leather arm bag over her shoulder, and within it she had stored her alethiometer in its velvet case. On most days she would walk with a skip in her step with energy radiating from her. Now, however, she carefully put one foot in front of the other being wary to not damage her precious item contained in her bag. Once Lyra reached Nicholas, she tapped him on the shoulder, and walked around him, staying out his line of sight. He fell for the trick, spinning around to find no one behind him. As he turned around, Lyra shouted,

"Boo!"

Nicholas started, his whole body jumping in surprise. It was like he had been shocked with an anbaric battery making Lyra cackle at the wild expression on Nicholas's face. Once again red in the ears, Nicholas replied,

"You're hilarious. Now let's go. I don't want to deal with this all day."

"Oh, this is going to be fun!" exclaimed Lyra. Pantalaimon leapt onto her shoulder and slouched over it lazily, but his eyes were full of the same excitement in Lyra's.

The two children walked from the Clay beds up and down a variety of streets and alleys, finally reaching a small gated entranceway off to the side of one of the colleges. This college was by far the largest of the countless other schools, and it was also the most beautiful. When it came into view after they passed by Nicholas's favorite restaurant to steal a cup of coffee from ("You really could just scavenge for some money, you know that?" Lyra pointed out), Nicholas's jaw dropped, and the excitement of adventure fell over his entire body. The anticipation to enter such a grand, majestic fortress was overwhelming. The towers, rooftops, and domes were architectural wonders that awed all that came to see them.

"Welcome to Jordan College. The finest in Oxford."

"So… This is your home?" spoke Nicholas in disbelief.

Lyra nodded simply with a huge grin on her lips. Giddily, she strolled up to the gate and produced a small key. With a quick turn in the lock, the gate swung open, and Jordan College was theirs to explore.

Once inside the walls of the college, Nicholas released a gasp in amazement. The interior of the structure was more exquisite than that of its exterior. Paintings of cupid and Phoebus and many other Roman gods and goddesses covered the high arched ceiling, and pillars lining the walls of the tall, long corridors. A marble floor stretched out before the feet of Lyra and Nicholas, and the echoes of their footsteps shook the college.

"They just let you in? Why you?" asked Nicholas, continuing to gape at the ceiling.

"My dad put me here when I was a baby to be raised. He checked up on me periodically, but mostly he was off on adventures and whatnot. In the North. Svalbard, to be exact," Lyra spoke matter-of-factly.

She knew every mention of the North would frazzle Nicholas, and she found his reactions to be quite amusing. At the mere "Sval-" of the word 'Svalbard,' Nicholas swung his head down to look at her, pulling a muscle in his neck. He slowed down in the hallway, and Lyra just smiled deviously and walked ahead. When Nicholas looked back up he was irritated to find that Lyra was nowhere to be seen. Scowling at the wall turning to the left at the end of the corridor, Nicholas stomped down the hallway and approached the corner.

"I think you're a big pain in the butt Miss-"

But as Nicholas turned the corner he walked right into a big black robed man. Nicholas's face instantly become acquainted with the old man's scraggly white beard, and a heavy handful of texts dropped from the man's arms and onto Nicholas's feet as the two of them collided into one another. With a yelp and a leap into the air, Nicholas accidentally hit the man to the ground, falling amongst his many volumes. The sound of running feet came from the next corridor corner and then Lyra was beside a very befuddled Nicholas.

"Look what you did!"

"What? What is it?" groaned Nicholas. He sat up from his sprawled position on the cold marble floor.

The man that Nicholas had walked into had not been a scholar as expected. It was the Master of Jordan College. And, from his undignified displacement on the floor, he was not at all pleased.

"Will you tell me who in the world you might be, sir?" the Master coldly inquired.

Nicholas's eyes widened as he realized who he had hit, so then with a quick jump to his feet Nicholas hurried over to the man and started picking up books feverishly. His ears were at their reddest ever. At least, for Lyra they were since she found this to be quite entertaining.

"Oh my G- I mean, I'm absolutely sorry, sir. I was with Lyra and I should have been- What I mean is I should have been more aware and- I mean, no, I meant to say-"

And on and on the stuttering went. Lyra leaned against the wall casually as Nicholas picked up the Master's books and handed them carefully to him while muttering like a fool in his embarrassment. The Master sternly held himself above Nicholas, eyeing him warily and every so often stealing a glance at Lyra. The dear child decided to bring a hooligan just as ridiculous as she was into her home. Well, one thing was for certain. Some old habits just never break.

"-and I'll never ever EVER be purposefully walking into people, especially if-"

"Boy, breathe. It was an accident and I'm not hurt, am I? No, calm down, dear boy. Now tell me, you know our Lyra?"

"Y-yes?" answered Nicholas hesitantly.

Lyra pushed herself away from the wall and walked toward Nicholas. Pan skittered between her feet and raised his eyes at Aika-Tulppa. The hummingbird dæmon zipped over to Nicholas and perched herself on his shoulder rubbing against his neck to comfort him. Finally, Nicholas breathed.

"Sir, this is my best friend's brother. His name's Johnnie. We met a week ago when he came here with his family from London to see his sister sing in the school choir. They all have a bunch of lovely voices in their family… Oh, how I wish I could sing like them. So he's been staying here in Oxford for a bit and yesterday when we were out eating lunch he kept asking 'bout the colleges and I said to him, 'Johnnie, I come from one of 'em colleges,' but he didn't believe me! So I took him here and now, as you can see Johnnie, they know me."

Lyra, standing between the Master and Nicholas who stood there with his mouth agape, swung her head around to look at Nicholas. She smiled slyly and winked. Nicholas's chest felt a little thrill and Aika had to poke his neck with her beak to ensure Nicholas did not stare awkwardly at Lyra in slight bliss. Snapping out of his trance, Lyra had faced the Master again, and the old man eyed her warily with an eyebrow raised comically higher than the other. The wrinkles on his face rippled.

Nodding slowly, he said to Lyra, "My dear, I am pleased to find you showing off your home so eagerly. But only specific people can come inside this college, Lyra. You should have told us you wanted to bring someone here."

Lyra looked down at her feet as if she felt ashamed. Nicholas was surprised at how mischievous she was especially for a student at St. Sophia's. Most girls who attended that school were found to be stuck up brats from mothers and fathers that were practically up to their necks in money. If Nicholas were to come within ten feet of one of those girls, she would shout some ridiculous rude phrase along the lines of, "Urchin, keep your dirty palms to your pet rats!" then high-tail it away with her peacock dæmon streaming along behind them. A feather or two usually fell off the bird, but then when Nicholas went up to it he saw the feather slowly vanish for some bizarre reason. Probably something related to Experimental Theology…

"Oh, boy, hand me that book by the wall would you? You missed one," spoke the Master.

Nicholas looked at the Master of Jordan for a second, then nodded and spun on his heel. By the wall a large, thin leather volume lay with its pages open. Nicholas grabbed the book by one end and shut it. As he was about to hand the book to the Master, Aika-Tulppa saw the words 'Theological Experimentation, Study 192' on the cover and relayed the information to Nicholas swiftly. Blinking, Nicholas forgot to let go of the book that he was handing to the Master.

"Thank you, Johnnie," growled the Master, jerking the book out of Nicholas's hands, "Now, Lyra, you know what to do next time you want to bring someone here. Run along now, we do not mind you showing Johnnie around. Please refrain from bothering or talking with the scholars or even the servants for that matter."

And with a curt nod and polite smile, the old Master of Jordan College continued down the exquisite corridors of his college. Lyra looked up from her 'ashamed' pose, and looked down the hallway to make sure the Master had gone. Then, just as quickly as Nicholas had collided with the man, Lyra grabbed Nicholas by the arm and tugged him forward forcefully.

"Ow! What are you doing?"

"Are you actually dumb enough to run into the Master of the whole bloody college!?"

"I literally ran into him, though! It wasn't my fault-"

"I don't care whose fault it was, but it was stupid! Don't do it again. I'm trying to keep away from the lying business these days," said Lyra, her voice dropping to a whisper at the mention of lying.

She loosened her grip on Nicholas, and he massaged his arm with his opposite hand. Continuing to walk beside Lyra, he replied,

"Impressive, by the way. I usually can't think of background stories half as convincing as that was."

"It was practically a hobby of mine about a year ago," laughed Lyra. Nicholas viewed her in puzzlement.

"You are so confusing, you know that?"

"Oh, I'll explain later, don't worry. Pan, check to see if anyone is in the retiring room," commanded Lyra, the pine-marten running ahead to two large double doors almost as high as the ceiling. The carved hardwood made the cold marble warmer and the corridor seemed to darken ever so slightly like a thin layer of clouds covering the sun in the early spring. Nicholas marveled at the workmanship, pointing lamely at the doors in his stupor. Lyra rolled her eyes and grabbed a handle. She gestured for Nicholas to take the other, and then, with a hard push the two doors slowly swung inward and the dining hall was revealed.

Lyra quickly sprinted up the few steps that led into the hall, and she stepped from a bench onto one of the long tables set with the gold, silver, and crystal already. She walked along the table to the end of the hall happily, skipping in circles as she went. Lyra had not been in the dining hall since the time she met Mrs. Coulter, a beautiful, deceptive woman who turned out to be her dreaded mother, and the retiring room was one of the last places she was before enrolling in St. Sophia's. So much had happened and changed in only a year. To be back in the place where everything began… Where she heard about Dust…

"Shouldn't Aika see if anyone is in that room you asked Pan to go in?" shouted Nicholas from the opposite end of the dining hall. Lyra, standing at the end of the hall squinted to see him since the light from the tall windows on the hall's left side was blindingly bright.

"Fine by me. Just make sure to hide under the armchair if you need to. It's close to the door, and you won't be seen by anyone under there," spoke Pan. The male dæmon's voice was surprising to hear. He had remained fairly silent for the past few encounters. Only Lyra had spoken directly with Nicholas, and he always could hear Aika whispering a thought to him through his ear or in his mind. The pine-marten was quite a handsome dæmon, and only until now Nicholas considered him to be cold and unfriendly. From the tones in his voice, Nicholas found Pan to be kinder than expected. Aika-Tulppa picked up on this as well.

With a figure eight to signal a yes, Aika flew over to the door at the end of the hall and stole under the crack at the bottom. Nicholas went as close to the door as he could because of the distance between himself and Aika. Pan had been right. The armchair, Aika saw, was the closest hiding spot for a small dæmon so the human could stay outside while the dæmon could hide within, eavesdropping on any conversation that may occur without being too distant from her human.

Luckily, Aika-Tulppa did not need to go under the armchair. The retiring room had armchairs, a coffee table, a table with a silver serving platter on it, a projecting lantern sitting in the corner with a screen to project photograms, a fireplace, and other luxurious objects of interest. But no scholar was to be seen. She relayed the information to Nicholas.

"We're safe," said Nicholas, putting his hand on the handle.

Lyra nodded in understanding and followed him into the room. She smiled at the familiar sight of the wardrobe off to the side where the scholars kept their robes, and the funny brass instruments for measurements in celestial geography sitting on the table neatly. Slowly pacing her way over to the wardrobe, Nicholas examined the objects curiously as they spoke.

"So why are we in here? Think that artifact would be here, then?"

"Nah, it's most likely to be in the college wing with history stuff. Besides, this is the room where scholars smoke and drink wine talking philosophy after dinner. However, I find this room usually holds a secret or two."

"How do you mean?" Nicholas asked, raising his eyes from the brass objects.

Lyra, her hand caressing the woodwork of the wardrobe, muttered, "If only something happened here again… Something that would let us through…"

Pantalaimon brushed against Lyra's feet comfortingly, but Nicholas was confused at her words. Did she mean the wardrobe?

Suddenly, with an angry push against the side of the wardrobe, Lyra caused the wall next to her to swing open to reveal stone steps leading downward into darkness. She gasped in surprise and took a step back toward the table, falling against it. Nicholas could not understand her reaction and her words. This would have to be the most mystifying girl Nicholas had ever stumbled upon, but it was due to this behavior that Nicholas was slowly beginning to like her more than he had anyone else before in his life. It was all too disconcerting for him.

He reacted simply saying, "Brilliant. Let's go."

And with that Nicholas stood up from beside the table of the retiring room and started down the dark sinister stairway. Lyra regarded him as he went, but she was had stepped forward again, leaning against the wardrobe, panting from the fright the door had given her. She did not expect that to happen. In no way had Lyra ever known of this passage, and no mention to its existence or to any secret passages ever cropped up during her life at the college as a young child.

"Pan… What's happening? It's like that was supposed to happen, but I… I didn't…"

He leapt into Lyra's arms, and Pantalaimon looked up into Lyra's eyes.

"Maybe Nicholas is the next step."

"Step for what?"

"The building of the Republic of Heaven."

"Oh, yeah, that. Haven't thought about that in a while now, have we?"

"But Lyra," began Pantalaimon, "might this will be a way through like you asked?"

"Maybe so, Pan. We'll just have to keep going to find out."

"Bet you're confusing Nicholas. Poor guy, he probably took your words the wrong way when you were muttering at the wardrobe…"

Much to Nicholas's confusion, she had not meant the wardrobe. She had meant a portal. A gate. A doorway. A window into another world.

And with that, girl and dæmon walked down the stone steps and into darkness.

**Ok, maybe it's confusing a little for those who haven't read the book, but I think this was a pretty good one! Remember, **_**review**_** with plot suggestions, critiques, things you liked, etc. and I will provide you with chapters featuring what you ask (if what you ask is reasonable of course). Keep reading! :)**


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